


iCarlynatural

by Sequesters



Category: Supernatural, iCarly
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Sam Puckett imprints on Dean Winchester like a baby duckling, casefic, takes place around s2 of spn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29694180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sequesters/pseuds/Sequesters
Summary: The Winchesters pay a visit to Sam's ex, Spencer Shay, when they see footage of him setting fires accidentally on his little sister's webshow, iCarly.Nothing is ever as simple as it seems in Apartment 8-C of Bushwell Plaza.The first chapter of this was originally posted on Tumblr, but the continuations will be added here.
Relationships: Spencer Shay/Sam Winchester, as exes
Comments: 22
Kudos: 46





	1. Chapter 1

“Next on iiiiiCarly-”

“We show you some of our favorite clips-”

“Of  _ myyy _ brother Spencer-”

“ _ Her _ brother-”

“Setting things on fire!”

“Withoooout even touching em!”

“He’s a bit accident-prone.”

“So without further ado-”

“We present a segment called-”

“SPENCER SETS FIRE TO EVERYTHING!” shouted the two preteens directly into the camera.

“What in the goddamn hell are you watching?” Dean asked, startling Sam.

“P-possible case,” Sam said, turning the laptop toward his brother.

“Yeah, the case of when did you turn into a twelve year old girl?” Dean said, giving Sam a punch to the shoulder.

Sam rolled his eyes.

“Get this,” he said, “This guy up in Seattle was caught on camera, apparently setting fires with his  _ mind _ .”

“Big deal, any Joe Schmo with a computer and a camera can fake pyrotechnics nowadays,” Dean complained, falling onto the motel bed.

“That’s what I thought at first, too,” Sam said, “But...this is found footage, candid camera type stuff, on a webshow entirely run by three thirteen year olds.”

“Plus, I did a little digging, and the record shows that fires have broken out at their apartment at  _ four times _ the national average, and that’s just the ones that have been reported. At least one witness says that the combustion was spontaneous.”

Dean picked his head up off the bed. “That...sounds pretty weird,” he acknowledged.

“It gets weirder,” Sam said, closing the laptop and taking a breath, “I actually KNOW the guy.”

Dean blinked. “You  _ what? _ ”

“Yeah, uhm...from Stanford,” Sam said, shifting uncomfortably, “S-Spencer Shay. We were...in the same classes, junior year.”

“Well? Let’s call up your old buddy, and see what’s up with him.”

“Yeah, about that. I was wondering if...if you could take this one,” Sam mumbled.

“Dude. Setting fires with his mind??” Dean said, sitting up fully and fixing Sam with an incredulous look, “He might be one of your little psychic brothers in arms. I-I’m gonna need some  _ backup _ , in case something  _ weird  _ goes down.”

“I-I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Sam said uncomfortably, “He’s a nice guy! Really.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, and Sam’s stomach sank.

“What’s  _ your  _ damage, then?” he asked, “What’d you do to this guy? Steal his girl? Eat the last of his french fries?” Dean chuckled as he ribbed his little brother, “Dump him?”

Sam suddenly choked on his own spit, and Dean’s eyebrows shot up as it  _ clicked _ .

“You-” he said, jumping to his feet and tripping over the motel chair in his haste, “You  _ did! _ ”

Sam shrunk even further back in his chair.

Dean walked right up to the table and gripped it with one hand, shoving his finger toward Sam’s face.

“You went out with this guy?” Dean accused, “A-and then  _ dumped him??” _

“It was college! Experimentation is healthy!” Sam said, refusing to look Dean in the eyes as he pleaded his case.

“Uh-uh, lawboy,” Dean said, waggling his finger, “You’re not getting outta THAT one so easily. Spill.”

Sam sighed.

“Fiiiine, yeah, we-we  _ dated, _ for a little,” Sam said, still avoiding Dean’s gaze, “It-it turns out?”

Sam shrugged, “Guys aren’t my thing!” 

“And I’m sure that you handled that with ALL the maturity and grace of the goddamn idiot twenty year old you were,” Dean said, staring Sam down.

Sam put his head in his hands. It wasn’t a time he liked to think about.

“I ghosted him, Dean,” Sam said, muffled, “We were friends, we made out at a party, tried the dating thing, then I  _ ghosted _ him. Then...he was in my CLASS next semester. It only had twenty-five people in it! And one time, we had to sit next to each other, and-”

Sam sighed, and sat back in the chair. “God, it was one of the most awkward experiences I’ve ever had.”

“Well Sammy,” Dean said, sighing as he packed his bag, “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.”

He slung his bag over his shoulder, and patted Sam on his.

“Now, c’mon,” he said, heading to the door, “Let’s go talk to your gay awakening.”

“You do NOT have the right to talk about  _ gay awakenings-”  _ Sam shouted as he ran out the door after Dean.

-

“I scoured the nearby practices,” Dean said, adjusting the electrician’s shirt as the elevator whirred, “There’s no lawyer named Spencer Shay at  _ any _ of ‘em.”

“I don’t know, he...he’s one of those...artist types,” Sam said, as the elevator dinged and slid open, “Maybe he dropped out too?”

“Ooh, birds of a feather  _ fuck  _ together,” Dean muttered.

Sam’s angry retort was cut off by what sounded like a hundred wrenches clattering to the floor from inside one of the apartments.

Sam checked the paper for the apartment number, and his shoulders slumped.

“That’s the one,” Sam sighed.

“Of  _ course _ ,” Dean grumbled.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Just  _ knock _ already.”

“Oh no, no no,” Dean said, throwing his hands up, “ _ You _ do it. I wanna  _ see  _ this.”

Sam threw him a dirty look and sighed, turning reluctantly to the apartment door. He cleared his throat. Shifted. Stalled. But then finally, hesitantly...he raised his fist and knocked.

“Oh, that’s just GREAT!” They heard a not-very-muffled yell from inside as footsteps clomp-clomp-clomped towards them, “Who  _ else  _ is gonna come to the door and ruin my day??”

The door swung open violently, revealing a tall, gangly, long-haired man, whose fashion choices ran the gamut from “kinda weird” to “absolute disaster”. He was wearing cutoff jeans, a graphic tee printed with the phrase “CHEST WORDS” in cheery yellow font, and knee-high rainbow socks that  _ flashed like a christmas tree. _

His eyes flickered from Sam, to Dean, and did a double-take back to Sam, where his eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

He blinked incredulously, his mouth working with no sound coming out of it as he processed the scene in front of him.

Then he took his hand off the door, straightening up and crossing his arms.

“Ah,” Spencer said politely, in a way that was CLEARLY masking some internal screaming, “Sam  _ Winchester. _ ”

“Uhm, yeah, eh heh...H-hi, Spencer,” Sam said, scratching the back of his neck.

There was a long, awkward pause, in which Dean’s shit-eating grin only grew wider and more gleeful.

“I’m Dean Winchester,” Dean finally, mercifully interrupted, “ _Sammy_ here's older brother. We heard that you recently had a fire, and we’re here to inspect for any faulty wiring. Mind if we look around?”

Spencer looked off into the distance for just long enough to heave a deep sigh.

“Sure,” he said, still stony-face staring at Sam as he welcomed them in with a sweep of an arm, “Welcome to my humble abode.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean take a look around Spencer's apartment, and find more than they bargained for.

Spencer’s humble abode was anything _but_.

In fact, Sam’s jaw dropped at the sheer _enormity_ the second he stepped inside.

It was an interior designer’s wet _dream_ . High ceilings, a wooden staircase leading to _multiple fucking levels,_ Spencer’s one apartment was probably bigger than every motel that Sam and Dean had ever shared, combined.

And it was filled with _art._

Weird art, but art nonetheless. There was a robot made of soda bottles on the landing, small sculptures lined the counters and end tables, paintings leaned inbetween each piece of furniture, giving the giant apartment a very homey feeling.

Even Dean whistled appreciatively as he wandered up the landing, touching the soda robot with a tentative finger.

“Jesus, Spence,” Sam said in awe, “You must have really made it big.”

“Not me, unfortunately,” Spencer said with a grimace, “It’s-it’s our dad. He’s doing some preeetty top-secret stuff for the military right now, and pulled some strings to get us this place.”

He sobered. “Probably shouldn’t have told you that.”

“Us?”

“My little sister Carly lives here with me,” Spencer said, “While she goes to school.”

Sam’s heart gave a painful twang, as he was struck with a memory of Spencer, him, and Jess, sitting around a little cafe table. They were supposed to be working, but they were laughing, because Spencer had tried to call his sister out of school to play hooky at a theme park, but his cover was blown when he gave the physician’s name as _Doctor Rollercoaster_ -

Jessica’s laugh rang high and sharp in his mind-

“Was this the Doctor Rollercoaster sister?” Sam blurted.

There was an awkward silence, as Spencer just shut his eyes and sighed.

“Yep, that would be the one,” he said, sitting down on his couch.

Sam wished he had kept his mouth _shut_.

“I appreciate how your memory covers all of my most deeply embarrassing moments, Sam,” Spencer deadpanned, finally looking up at him, “Really wonderful of you.”

Dean grinned at him from behind Spencer, tongue between his teeth, full to the brim with older-brother glee.

Sam felt the urge to toss himself out the window.

“S-sorry,” he mumbled.

Spencer just waved an arm, and flopped it back down.

“So, um...how’s-how’s your sister?” Sam asked desperately.

Spencer finally smiled, and relaxed a notch.

“She’s good, she’s a good kid,” he said, smiling down at his knees, “She’s got friends, her own little webshow...we’re pretty happy here. It _is_ kinda weird to parent your own _sibling_ , though.”

“Been there, buddy,” Dean said, pausing as his boot came down on the CLANK of metal.

“I see your brother is stepping all over my latest sculpture,” Spencer noted, looking behind the couch at a guilty-looking Dean.

“This is a sculpture?” Dean asked skeptically, rustling the metal with his toe.

“Well, not quite yet,” Spencer said, some excitement returning to his eyes as he explained, “It’s my new _experimental_ piece. I call it...House of Cards.”

Sam and Dean simultaneously peered down at the pile of what were very clearly wrenches, then back up.

“I just thought it would be... _cool_ , if they were wrenches instead of cards,” Spencer mumbled, eyes fixed sheepishly downward.

“That is cool, Spencer,” Sam said, nodding reassuringly.

Dean raised his eyebrows at that, and wandered off to “inspect” the house.

Time for Sam to move in.

“So tell me,” Sam said, sitting on the couch, “About the fire that happened recently.”

Spencer sighed, and threw his hands in the air.

“I just keep wracking my brain, and I can’t figure out what _started_ it!” he said, “It’s not like this is my first rodeo with fire in this apartment-”

Spencer flopped his hands down.

“I remember just being so _frustrated_ , with my sculpture,” he said, “I was making a horsicycle, which is a horse made out of a unicycle-”

Dean audibly groaned.

“And the hooves weren’t sticking on right, so I turned around to cool off, and when I turned _back_ around, BLAMMO!”

Spencer flung his hands up and nearly hit Sam in the face.

“The horsicycle was on fire!” he exclaimed,“And do you _know_ what I did next?”

“What?”

“The responsible thing!” said Spencer, looking pained, “I went and got the fire extinguisher-”

Sam nodded.

“And when I pulled the pin,” Spencer mimed doing just that, “And squeezed the trigger, _fire shot out of that too!”_

“Wow. A-are you okay?” asked Sam.

“Just humiliated,” Spencer sighed, flopping his hands into his lap, “The local fire department knows me by _name_.”

“Wow,” Sam said, shifting uncomfortably, “D-does this kind of thing happen...a lot? A-around you?”

Spencer looked at him as if he were an alien, but Sam held firm despite his discomfort.

“Uhhhm,” Spencer said, pursing his lips, “I guess I’m a bit...accident-prone, when it comes to... _pyrotechnics?_ ”

“But you didn’t...uhm... _set_ the fire on purpose,” Sam said, staring Spencer in the eyes, “Right?”

“No!” Spencer said, offended, “But I will admit, electric wiring and I are not really friends. But that’s why _you’re_ here...isn’t it?”

“Y-yeah,” Sam said, standing up abruptly, “I’m gonna-go talk to my brother.”

“Find anything?” Sam asked, catching his brother at the kitchen sink.

“Did this guy take ALL his interior design directions from Nickelodeon?” Dean said, picking up a gummy bear paperweight the size of his hand, “Seriously. It looks like Drake and Josh on steroids in here.”

“Dude, come on,” Sam said, slapping Dean on the arm.

“Fine,” he grumbled, “But if I get slimed? I’m blaming _you.”_

“Shut up, dude. I don’t think it’s him.”

“Sammy, have you considered that people _lie_ sometimes?” Dean said, voice low, “Especially when they’ve got _freaky powers?_ ”

“Dude. This guy couldn’t even lie well enough to get his _sister_ out of her _sixth grade class_ for the day. I don’t think he’s some...evil mastermind.”

“Yeah, well I’ve found nothing so far,” Dean said, “No hex bags, no spellwork, nada. You saw that video, same as me. It was a _compilation_ , Sam. Not a one-off thing. I still think he’s one of your...graduating class of psychic freaks.”

“I-I’m not saying he’s not!” Sam whispered urgently, “But if that’s the case, I don’t think he’s doing it on purpose. He seems...unaware.”

“Then go make him aware, then!” Dean hissed through gritted teeth, pushing Sam out of the kitchen, “He was your boyfriend, or whatever, so that means you have to break the news-”

Dean was interrupted by the sound of the door swinging open. Three young teenagers had just entered the apartment, talking excitedly.

Sam instantly recognized the black-haired girl, both from the webshow footage and from Spencer’s wallet photo of his baby sister that Sam had seen years ago. Just like in the footage, she was dressed like she had just walked out of one of those teeny-bopper magazine ads. She was trailed by her blonde co-star, who was dressed in clashing patterns with ratty shoes and a stained backpack, and a short, dark-haired boy, holding a computer and wearing the nerdiest brown-khakis-and-polo combo Sam had ever seen.

They all stopped short at the sight of Sam and Dean.

“Who are you?” asked the sister, tilting her head curiously.

“Oh, Carly,” Spencer said, bounding up from the couch, “This is my, uhm... _associate_ , from Stanford.”

“Nice to meet you, mister _associate_ ,” she said, quirking her lips in a smile as she shook Sam’s hand, “You got a name?”

“Sam,” Sam nodded, and Carly _laughed_ at him.

“What?? No way, so is she!” she said, pulling her blonde friend forward.

“Sam, meet Sam!” Carly said, pointing between them with obvious glee.

This new Sam couldn’t have been any more than thirteen, and no taller than five feet, but she gave him a menacing glare and cracked her knuckles.

“This apartment ain’t big enough for the two of us,” She threatened.

“Two people are allowed to have the same name, Puckett,” squeaked the nerdy boy, adjusting his power cables.

“Not when it’s _my_ name, Fredward,” she growled, “Mama’s gotta defend her title.”

Sam Winchester gave a polite grimace.

“Nice to meet you, uh. Sam. Th-This is my brother, Dean.”

“Heya,” Dean waved.

“We’re gonna set up for an iCarly rehearsal,” Carly said, looking back over her shoulder at Spencer.

“Alright, do what ya gotta do,” he waved.

Sam Puckett stared up at Sam Winchester with narrowed eyes.

“C’mon, Sam, we gotta rehearse,” Carly said, gently tugging her friend away from the staring match she was having, “It’s nice to meet you, other Sam.”

He nodded, grateful for an excuse to look away.

“I’ll get you,” the little blonde Sam said, pointing at him as she backed her way up the stairs, “One day.”

“I think she could take ya, Sammy,” Dean chuckled from behind him.

“It’s not impossible,” Spencer said, “That one’s a little spitfire. Don’t underestimate her.”

He shuddered.“That’s a mistake I won’t make again.”

Sam dropped his head into his hands. The last thing he wanted to do was throw down with a thirteen year old, in the middle of his ex’s living room, just because they shared a nickname.

Was that why he felt an icy chill up his spine, all of a sudden?

“Dude. It’s _cold_ in here,” Dean said, a warning rising in his voice.

The soda bottle robot’s motors started whirring, its eyes flashing as the rest of the lights in the apartment flickered on and off.

“Oh no,” Sam said, diving for his bag, fumbling with the zipper.

“Sam! The salt!!” Dean shouted.

“I’m _trying!!”_ Sam shouted back, the zipper finally giving way.

He tossed the salt to dean, and loaded the shotgun with a click, turning in a circle.

“A spirit? _Here?_ ” Dean said incredulously.

I-I guess!” Sam shouted back, whipping his head around as the lights flickered.

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S GOING ON!!” Spencer shouted, helpless hands waving in front of him, when-

The ghost manifested with a flicker, right at the base of the stairs.

“ _Shit_ -get down, Spencer!” Sam shouted, pushing him down inelegantly as he aimed his shotgun.

Spencer hit the floor with a yelp, the ghost bared its teeth and rushed towards Sam, its rotting arms reaching out for his neck-

BLAM!

The salt round hit home, and the ghost dissipated.

Sam lowered the shotgun, relaxing as the apartment around him returned to normal. He held out one hand, and helped a shaken Spencer to his feet.

Spencer clapped one hand to Sam’s shoulder.

Then clapped the other to Sam’s other shoulder.

 _“What the hell was that?!”_ he demanded, shaking Sam by the shoulders.

“Um,” Sam said, breaking away from his grip and blinking, “It was-”

“Is that a _shotgun?!”_

Sam dropped it like it had burned him, but it was too late. Carly and her little friends were already descending the stairs, staring openly at the scene in the living room.

And Carly looked furious.

“To be fair,” Sam said, holding his hands up, “The bullets were actually filled with rock sa-”

But Carly was actually rounding on her brother.

“Why did you let these _people_ into our apartment, Spencer?!” she admonished him, as he hung his head.

“They-they said they were electricians,” muttered Spencer guiltily.

“And you just _believed_ them?!” Carly said.

“An electrician has no reason to lie to me!” Spencer shouted back.

“ _Real electricians_ don’t have a SHOTGUN!” Carly screamed, flinging an arm out in her incredulity.

“Hey! My uncle Eddie is an electrician, and HE has a shotgun,” Sam said, from her perch on the couch.

“Shut up about your uncle Eddie!” Carly snapped, pointing a finger at her friend.

“Look,” Dean said, stepping in, “You guys have bigger problems than us, right now. You have yourselves a vengeful spirit, and we have to find out what’s tying it here.”

That looked to be too much for Carly, she just stopped to blink at Dean.

“A _what now_?!” she asked.

“A vengeful spirit, y’know, like...like a ghost,” Sam supplied, helpfully.

Freddie raised an eyebrow.

“Ghosts aren’t real,” he said, with all the self-assured confidence of a thirteen year old who believes, wholeheartedly, that he knows everything.

“Hate to break it to ya, Freddie, but...” Spencer said, shrugging with still-shaking hands, “Ghosts are _totally_ real, because I just saw one try to _kill this guy_ before he shot it.”

Carly whirled her head around, fixing her wild eyes on Dean, Sam, then Spencer.

“Was there _really_ a ghost in here?” she asked, suddenly fearful.

Spencer nodded.

“There has _gotta_ be a logical explanation for this,” said Freddie, holding his hands out, “Ghosts aren’t _real_ . They _can’t_ be.”

“I don’t have time to _convince_ you, Glee Club,” Dean snapped, “Ghosts _are_ real, and when it comes back it’s gonna be _angrier._ Now, you three. Help me salt this place. _”_

“Glee Club?” Freddie mumbled to himself.

“Ohoho,” Sam Puckett said, looking like she won the lottery, “Good one, Dean my man.”

Dean gave her the fakest of smiles and snatched the shotgun away from her exploratory fingers.

“ _Salt,”_ he said sternly, tossing each of them a canister.

“There are no _ghosts!_ ” Freddie insisted, but at Dean’s withering look he trudged over with the rest of them.

Spencer made his way to the couch, and sat down hard on it.

“So you’re not really an electrician,” Spencer said numbly.

“No,” Sam sighed, “No, I’m not. I’m a hunter, Spencer.”

“A _ghost_ hunter?” Spencer said.

“Not just ghosts,” Sam said, sitting down as well, “But...yeah. Been doing it all my life.”

Sam gave a breathy laugh. “Now you know why I never really talked about my childhood at Stanford.”

“So…” Spencer said, gears in his mind turning, “Do you think that the ghost is what’s causing the fires, too?”

Sam’s heart sank.

“No.”

“What, so you think that these two _freaky_ paranormal occurrences in this apartment are just _coincidences?”_

“If the fire was caused by the ghost, then the physical manifestation we saw would have burned the place _down_ ,” Sam said. He was not looking forward to the inevitable conclusion of this conversation.

“But...if it’s not the ghost,” Spencer said, looking down at his hands, “Then what is it?”

Sam looked down at the floor in front of them, right where he had pushed Spencer down.

There were two scorch marks in the wood, shaped perfectly like a pair of splayed hands.

Spencer followed Sam’s line of sight, then his eyes widened in shock.

He moved his mouth noiselessly, half-gesturing at Sam and the floor with increasing panic in his eyes.

Sam whirled around to Dean, who acknowledged him with a head nod.

“Alright, kiddos,” Dean said, loudly clapping his hands together, “Do any of you know where I can get some _meat_ in this town?”

“Are you taking us out for _burgers?”_ Sam said, whipping her head up in excitement.

“At a time like this?” Freddie said, skeptical.

“What, do you wanna fight this ghost on an empty stomach?” Dean asked, “C’mon, pouring all those salt lines made me _hungry._ ”

“Well, there’s Ten Foot Burger down the block,” Freddie said, “But why-”

“Say no more. Any place where there’s ten feet of burger is the place I wanna be,” Dean said, grinning as he stood, “Let’s go. I’ll get you all caught up with the ghost stuff you need to know along the way.”

“Ohhh man, we’re gonna get _along_ ,” little Sam said, curls bouncing as she followed him out the door, “You’re paying, right?”

When the door clicked shut on his sister and her friends, Spencer let his guard drop completely.

“That was ME?!” he shouted, standing up, “ _I’m_ the one who’s been setting fires?!”

Sam took a little too long to come up with an answer, which was an answer in itself.

“Ohhh my god I’m FREAKING OUT!!!” Spencer shouted, voice echoing off the walls of the apartment.

“If it helps,” Sam said, standing up, “I don’t think you’re doing it on purpose!”

“OF COURSE I’m not doing it on purpose!” Spencer said, pacing, throwing his hands every which way, “I-I thought I was just unlucky! I’m a klutz, y'know, a-a _weird little guy,_ and fires just _happen_ when you’re like that, right?”

He paused, gears turning in his brain.

“But-but every time something'd catch on fire," Spencer said slowly, "I'd feel a-a strong emotion, and a weird _tingle,_ and-”

He covered his face with his hands, but then threw his hands down with a yell, like he didn’t trust them.

The edge of the rug suddenly burst into flames, which really didn’t help Spencer calm down any as he stomped them out.

“T-that _was_ me!” he pointed, running his hands through his hair.

“Spencer, it’s okay!” Sam tried.

“It’s not okay, Sam!” he grimaced, voice breaking, “I put my _sister_ in danger!”

“That’s why I’m here, man,” Sam said.

Spencer stilled in terror, and picked up the nearest chair in self-defense.

“Are you here to kill me?” he whispered, angling the legs toward Sam, “Like you killed that ghost?”

“No, Spencer, I’m _like_ you,” Sam said, holding out placating hands, “At least, I think I am. The-the fires, they started last year, right?”

“Y-yeah, it was Carly’s last birthday,” Spencer said, adjusting his stance, “I made her a lava lamp. I was so proud of it, but then it caught on fire...then exploded. How did you know?”

“Because that’s when I started having visions,” Sam admitted.

It was different, admitting it to someone who knew him during arguably the most normal part of his life. It felt like he was tainting their happy memories with this conversation, between two scared twenty-somethings standing in a haunted apartment. The last time they had been in an apartment together, Sam had still been worried about stupid things like romance, homework, _midterms_.

Jess had still been alive.

“ _Prophetic_ visions?” Spencer asked, slowly lowering the chair.

“Yeah, actually,” Sam said, with a slight smile, “How’d _you_ know?”

“Lucky guess,” Spencer said, fully putting the chair back on the ground, “Man. That’s so much _cooler_ than mine.”

“I only get visions about people who are about to die, though,” Sam said.

Spencer winced. “I stand corrected,” he said, moving to sit down in the chair.

Spencer froze again in terror, halfway down.

“Wait, you didn’t...see a _vision_ of me, did you?” he asked, looking ready to pick up the chair again.

“No! No, no,” Sam said, “I saw that, uhm. That segment of your sister’s webshow-”

“Spencer Sets Fire To Everything,” Spencer completed for him, shoulders sagging as he fully took a seat, “Yeah. I’m familiar.”

Spencer laughed, looking at his knees.

“That’s all it took? To put it all together?”

“I’ve gotten pretty good at figuring out what’s weird, and what’s _weird_ weird.”

“Alright, Sam,” said Spencer, looking Sam in the eye, “If you know so much about the _weird_ weird...why do we have these powers?”

So Sam explained, to the best of his knowledge. His mom’s death, his dad’s quest, Jess’ death. He told him about the other people with powers they had encountered so far. Spencer didn’t say a word, but his face was an open book of emotions as Sam talked, mostly displaying some flavor of shock.

“I-I don’t know how to respond to that,” Spencer said, leaning back in the chair when Sam was finally finished.

“Most people don’t, it’s okay,” Sam sighed.

“Really though, wow. I knew you dropped out after Jess-” Spencer swallowed, “But...I guess I didn’t know the half of it.”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, tears threatening the corners of his eyes, “I miss her.”

“Me too,” Spencer sighed, “I _still_ can’t believe she’s gone. My little Art 140 buddy.”

The old nickname hit Sam _hard,_ and he sniffled.

Spencer reached out and put a steadying hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I ruined things, Spence,” Sam whispered, “Y’know. Back then. I was so _stupid_ , I thought I could just-just back out and run away from it, like we always did on the road, if-if I could do it all differently-”

“Ahh, come on,” Spencer said, clapping him on the back, “We all did dumb things in college. You ghosted me and broke my heart, I wrestled a raccoon for a McDonalds burger and lost. We’re older and wiser now, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Not gonna lie, it did kinda sting,” Spencer said, “But that was over three _years_ ago. I’m good.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Spencer said sincerely, “I really am."

They were interrupted by the door swinging open, with Dean leading the teens back into the apartment.

“Hey guys!” said Spencer, swapping back into his cheery voice effortlessly, “How were the _burgs?_ ”

“Great!”

“Awesome!”

“Sam ate like a pound of curly fries,” Carly reported.

"I couldn't let Dean out-eat me!" she said defensively.

Sam snickered involuntarily. Maybe he and this little Sam were more alike than he thought.

“I gave ‘em a basic rundown of the supernatural,” Dean said, finally wandering through the door, “Everything they’ll need to know to keep themselves safe, should they see the ghost.”

“Dean is the coolest person in the _world_ ,” Sam said, staring up at him with adoration in her eyes, “He kills _monsters_ for a _living!_ That is my dream!”

“You see this?” Dean said, gesturing at her, “At least there’s _one_ Sam that appreciates me around here.”

Sam, _adult_ Sam, pinched the bridge of his nose. The hero worship was going RIGHT to Dean’s head, and Sam just knew that he was going to be INSUFFERABLE about it for at least the next _week._

“Carls!” little Sam called, running up the stairs, “Do you have any iron?? I’m gonna make an anti-ghost weapon out of my buttersock!”

Dean watched her run up the stairs with no small amount of pride, then looked back at Sam and Spencer.

 _All good?_ he mouthed, flashing a little thumbs up.

Sam nodded.

“Alright,” Dean said, rubbing his hands together, “So the kids told me about a rumor, that there’s a _body_ stuck in the walls of this apartment.”

“Don’t tell me that stupid rumor is where the _ghost_ came from,” sighed Spencer.

“It’s the best lead that we got,” Dean shrugged, “But we’ll have to do some research to figure out where it’s likely to be.”

“Already on it,” Freddie said, typing away on his laptop, “I’m accessing all publicly available records for Bushwell Plaza right now.”

“The children are our future,” Dean said, clapping the boy on the shoulder.

After a few minutes, Freddie’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

“Hey, look at _this,_ ” he said, giving Dean the laptop.

Dean gave a cursory glance, and whistled.

“You, are one _lucky_ son of a bitch,” Dean said, wandering toward Spencer, “This apartment used to be _three_ apartments, until some rich guy decided to buy ‘em all and turn them into one apartment. One of the construction guys died doing the conversion, but guess what--his body was never recovered.”

Sam squinted at the screen over Dean's shoulder. 

"Wait, that was almost 50 years ago now," he said, turning back to Spencer, "Has there been any recent renovations, anything that maybe disturbed the body and caused it to manifest?"

“Well, we took out part of a wall in the studio just recently," Spencer said, "Just to add a setpiece for iCarly.

"Let's go check it out," Sam said, standing up off the couch, “That might just be where the body of our ghost is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emotions? In my iCarly/Supernatural crossover fic? it's more likely than you think.
> 
> I almost posted this one last night, but decided to wait for another once-over this morning. Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I love iCarly, and I love Supernatural, and I was SHOCKED by how well the two meshed together. I am seriously having so much fun that I'm already planning another full sequel to this fic that's set in s5 of SPN. More information on that one later. Anyway. Thanks for reading! it's 2 am but I wanted to post this /really bad/.


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